


Can You Fix The Broken?

by Violent_Bulldog



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Asthma, Bad Parenting, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh Centric, Bipolar Disorder, Bisexual Beverly Marsh, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Car Accidents, Character Death, Child Death, Cleaning, Cleanliness, Drug Addiction, Eating Disorders, Eddie Kaspbrak & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Even Numbers, F/F, F/M, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Stanley Uris, Gen, Hypervigilance, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Music, Musician Beverly Marsh, Musician Richie Tozier, Musicians, Odd Numbers, Other, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Bill Denbrough, Paranoia, Past Abuse, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Ships are minor - Freeform, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stanley Uris Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt, Teenage Losers Club (IT), There will be some happiness in here... I swear, YungBlud Music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-01 04:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violent_Bulldog/pseuds/Violent_Bulldog
Summary: R e a d   T h e   T a g s !Derry Institution for the Troubled Hadn't Expected To Take Seven Teenagers At OnceThey Also Hadn't Expected The Teenagers Would Become Such Close Friends(Inspired By "something about drowning" By SpazzaturaXIII)





	1. Lock Me Up Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags, please!
> 
> This book will definitely get into some super heavy shit so please, be warned.  
I'm 98% sure that there will be writing mistakes that neither I, nor Grammarly, will pick up on  
Without further ado, please enjoy this book

Beverly wasn't surprised when the police arrested her for the eighth time in a month. She was trying to beat her personal best, which was thirteen, before they called her father. She knew all the officers by first name and most of them were actually kinda nice to her. By nice, she means that they threw her sympathetic glances every now and then but, it's still better than what she gets at home.

At home, she gets punched and beaten and touched before she even gets to her bedroom. Her father was obviously a wonderful man! And to make it all better, her mother had slit her wrists and died in the bathtub on Beverly's ninth birthday after being diagnosed with Leukemia. Her mother had been her father's first punching bag but now that she was gone, it all landed on Bevvie. The sweet little girl who was confused about why her mother wasn't around and why she last saw her in pink water. 

By the time she was ten, she had learnt that she could grab cigarettes from the pharmacy by distracting the weird old man who ran the place, with her long eyelashes and sweet smile. She had learnt that she could steal a few dollars from her father's wallet whenever he was drunk to trade with some older students for two pills, that they called 'Micro-Dots', that made her feel happy and excited again. She had learnt that she could win over her teachers with the same tactic as the pharmacist, granting her with some of the highest grades the school had ever seen.

By the time she was ten and a half, she was addicted to nicotine and LSD and had been sexually assaulted by her maths teacher. Of course, she didn't know what that actually meant. She just thought that the cigarettes helped her feel calm, the pills made her feel happy and that she kept her good grades. She didn't tell her father about how the man in his mid-forties put his hand up her skirt or how he had his other hand down his own pants.

She didn't like how it felt. The way his fingers moved or the noises he made. She hated when he removed his hand from his pants and wiped a sticky, white substance away on a tissue. But, she got an A+ on her test, so everything was okay, right?

She met a boy when she turned thirteen. His name was Tom Rogan and he wore a leather jacket. He was popular and athletic and he wasn't too unattractive. He had been nice to her to start with, holding the doors open for her and walking her to each of her classes. Maths had turned into her least favourite subject but she refused to say why, especially since Mr Robert Gray was fired for 'Classified Reasons', but Tom walked her there every day.

She had been grabbing her books from her locker at the end of the day when Tom approached her. He grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her into an empty classroom, pinning her to the door and forcefully kissing her. She tried to turn her head away so he would stop but he grabbed her hair tightly, keeping her in place. She managed to push him off of her with her newly freed arms, glaring at him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She had hissed at him. He had smirked at her before slowly unbuckling his belt. Beverly reached for the door, only to find it had been locked from the outside by one of Tom's friends, no doubt. He dropped his belt and undid his fly, lowering his jeans to his mid-thigh. 

"We're not doing this" Beverly stated, her voice clear but with a small quiver. She had thought that Tom was nice, that he was a gentleman. He crept closer to her, pinning her to the door again. She struggled to push him off but failed as he was much stronger and taller than she was. He grinded against her thigh and she had felt him getting hard at the sheer touch.

"You're not the one in control here. If you don't let me have you, then I'll tell everyone how much of a little slut you are" He had whispered in her ear. With a quick movement, she had kneed him in his balls, leaving him grunting on the ground.

"Fuck you" She had hissed before grabbing her bag and climbing out of the window, knowing that the door was still locked and her locker, much forgotten about.

Tom had kept his shitty deal true and before she even knew what was happening, everyone in the school was talking about her. About how she had fucked Tom and his friends and everyone on the three sports teams that the school had. People snickered for the entire day and Beverly soon found herself eating her lunch in the disabled bathroom. If she had any friends before, then they were long gone and insulting her just like everyone else.

She couldn't care less because her dad was getting drunk more often which meant that she could get more money and then, more pills. Going to school sober was a rare occurrence but nobody cared. So what if the school slut looked like she was ready to collapse at any moment? So what if the school slut couldn't stop her frantic foot and finger tapping? So what?

She stopped going to school when High School was supposed to start. Her father didn't notice since his drinking had started in the daytime now. Easier money still. Everything was pretty okay, except for her father's constant yelling and hitting but that was something that Beverly could live with.

It was the summer after her fifteenth birthday when her father took a bitter turn. He started to get much more touchy with her and he stared more. She had been in bed, restlessly turning in the early hours of the morning when her door creaked open. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep when she heard his heavy steps creeping towards her bed. She felt the bed dip with his weight and his gross, sweaty hand tangle in her hair, the other hand resting on her hips. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, before he finally left her room to get ready for his job. That afternoon, she cut her hair short and bathed for hours to try and get rid of his touch.

When the police car started on a different route, Beverly couldn't care less. This was her second arrest of the week, it was a familiar occurrence. She didn't care where the car took her, as long as it wasn't towards her father.

They pulled up to an old brick building which looked older than the entire town of Derry itself. There were deep green vines crawling up the walls, boarded up windows and overgrown grass that was probably taller than her. The officer dragged her by the handcuffs towards the main door and leading to a receptionists desk. The officer nodded to the receptionist as if she were an old friend before releasing Beverly of the handcuffs and leaving. The door made a beeping noise as it slammed shut. 

"Ah, Ms Marsh. We've been expecting you for a long time" The receptionist said with a sickly sweet voice. Beverly read on her name tag that her name was Mrs Kersh. 

"Good for you... Where am I, anyway?" Beverly muttered, picking at her nails. Mrs Kersh seemed to take note of that, typing away at a computer that was surely older than the building.

"Derry Institution for the Troubled" She replied, not looking away from the computer screen. Beverly scoffed.

"I'm not troubled. So, I'll just be on my merry way" She snarked before walking to the door and pulling. It didn't budge.

"I'm afraid not dear. You see, the police have informed us about all of the things you've been getting up to and it is our job to help you" Mrs Kersh said from her desk as Beverly sulked her way back over.

"I'm fine" She grunted. 

"Drug addiction, theft, graffiti-"

"Okay, you have a point. But locking me in a mental place isn't going to help that" Beverly cut her off.

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see dear" Mrs Kersh said, a stupid, sickly smile on her face. A man with the name tag 'Mr Bowers' entered through a set of double doors and lead Beverly through parts of the institution until they reached the sleeping quarters. He led her to a room before leaving her inside to settle. The walls were white, the bed was white, the desk, chair, floor, it was all white.

She sat in the chair, her foot tapping anxiously on the ground. They hadn't searched her or anything yet so she took that to her advantage and lit up a cigarette. The dark smoke made the room feel slightly more alive. There was a loud bang and manic laughing somewhere down the hall.

"This is going to be fucking great" Beverly scoffed to herself, taking another long, slow drag of the cigarette.


	2. I Can't Drown My Demons

Bill's manic laughter flooded the hallway as two staff members helped carry him towards the nurse's station. He was happy! So, so happy! He had been talking to Georgie again and that always made him happy because he missed his little brother. The nurses and doctors had tried to tell him that Georgie wasn't there but Bill could see him and talk to him, so they were obviously wrong.

It's not like the nurse knew anything about him and his brother anyways, he had only arrived a few days ago. His mother and father had said tearful goodbyes to him and it confused him because he saw them the next day in the food hall. He talked to them for hours about how nice his room was, about how he liked talking to Georgie and how he missed his bike, Silver. A nurse had called his name which made him turn around. She said it was time to leave but when Bill went to say goodbye to his parents again, they were gone. He had pouted and wondered for the rest of the day how they disappeared so quickly.

When Bill was thirteen and Georgie was seven, they had gone out to play in the woods. It was a nice day so they went swimming in the quarry too. They had lost track of time and it became dark well they were still swimming. They knew that their parents would be made since they were meant to be home before dark, so they quickly got dressed and headed back into the woods, trying to find the main road. It had started to rain by that point so they were drenched, wandering through the woods in the middle of the night. They, eventually, found the main road. They ended up stumbling into traffic.

As Bill narrowly dodged a car, Georgie had been behind him and had been struck with the car. Bill's eyes had gone wide at the sight of his little brother, bleeding and unconscious on the road. The driver had panicked before calling an ambulance. She knelt next to Georgie, checking for a pulse but failed to find one. Bill just looked at her, confused. He told her to find it because there was no way that his little brother was dead. She explained to him that, since Georgie was so short, his head had the first collision with the car and then, the ground and that it must have damaged his brain severely. The woman was crying and Bill just stared. At her, at his baby brother, at the ambulance approaching.

The paramedics tried to explain to Bill that Georgie was gone but Bill wasn't having any of it. He told them that they were wrong because Georgie was tough and he couldn't die before Bill did cause that wouldn't be fair. Georgie was pronounced dead at the scene just before their parents arrived. Bill told them that they kept saying that Georgie was dead but he wasn't. The paramedics took Zack and Sharon to the side and explained what happened to Georgie and explained what was happening to Bill, that he was in denial. They added that there was a chance Bill would suffer from some severe mental issues since it was such a traumatic event.

Bill was silent throughout Georgie's funeral. It was a quiet service, mainly family and close friends. He was buried next to their grandma in a little blue coffin. Everyone was crying except for Bill. He stared blankly at the grave. Everyone had left to attend the ceremony inside, leaving Bill there. Alone. His parents were sceptical to just leave him but decided that he needed a little while alone with his baby brother.

"I'm s-s-sorry G-Georgie. I-If I ha-had seen how l-l-late it w-was, w-we would ha-have been h-home before d-dark" Bill stuttered to the grave. It was the first time he had spoke in the last few days.

"It s-should h-h-have been m-me. Y-You should s-s-s-still be h-here, n-not me" He continued with dry eyes.

"Y-You're f-f-floating now t-though, G-George. I'll f-float w-with you s-someday s-s-soon. Y-You have n-nana w-w-w-with you n-now though, s-so k-k-keep her c-com-company for u-u-us, okay? I l-l-love you, G-Georgie. I-I'm s-s-s-s-sorry" Bill whispered before standing up and leaving the grave. He had left a paper boat on the grave because that was their favourite thing to do together, chase paper boats down the street whenever it would rain.

On what would have been Georgie's eighth birthday, Bill saw him. Georgie was standing at the foot of his bed, holding the paper boat the Bill had left at his grave. Bill didn't care about the logic behind it, he had his little brother back. He jumped out of his bed and hugged Georgie tightly. His mom heard his footsteps and opened the door to see Bill, kneeling on the floor and holding nothing. Bill noticed her and started ranting and raving about how Georgie was back and that he was right. Sharon didn't know what to say. Her eldest son was imagining her youngest son was there with him. She just smiled at him before leaving the room, tears flooding her eyes, and going to talk to her husband.

The occurrences happened more frequently as time went on which made it harder for Zack and Sharon to ignore. Bill would talk about Georgie all the time and about how he kept disappearing like they were playing hide-n-seek. Zack phoned the doctors about getting Bill an appointment as soon as possible.

When Bill was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, it just made sense. He was imagining Georgie because he felt guilty about being the one to survive. The doctor said that he was also Bi-Polar which was why he was sometimes in a great mood and other times, he was crying in his room for hours. The doctor recommended that Bill went to Derry Institution for a while, to help him with his issues. Zack and Sharon were reluctant at first but when Bill started talking to Georgie in the doctor's office, they agreed.

The nurses and doctors were nice enough but Bill didn't understand why they kept lying about Georgie and saying that he wasn't really there. Bill could see him and talk to him so why couldn't the doctors see him too? 

He had just been in the nurse's station, getting his weight and height checked when he heard pills rattling and the quiet sound of an asthma inhaler being puffed. He looked down the hallway and saw a skinny boy puffing the inhaler rapidly. It was a pattern: One puff, two-second space, another puff, another two seconds and onward. The boy's eyes were wide and alert and the second he spotted Bill, he darted into one of the nurse's stations.

Bill shrugged before turning to talk to Georgie again.


	3. Not Like The Other Kids

The other boy didn't look clean. Not clean enough for Eddie's liking anyways with his greasy hair and dirty shoes. He kept puffing his inhaler, enjoying the clean air. The institution didn't look healthy, not with all the mould and other kids. He watched the nurse wash her hands once and panicked. She needed to wash her hands at an even number of times to keep them clean and healthy. He asked her to wash them again and she obliged but only because she could see the tears in his eyes and the panic upon his face.

Eddie hated odd numbers, they made him feel sick to his stomach. The TV volume needed to be at an even number and he couldn't watch any channels that had an odd number in it. He had to wait two seconds between each puff of his inhaler which meant that he would puff it thirty times a minute. Since there were one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day, that meant that there were eighty-six thousand and four hundred seconds in a day, giving him forty-three thousand and two hundred puffs a day if he didn't stop. He didn't want to stop because that meant inhaling the institution's air and that was full of germs and diseases. 

The nurse gave him his daily injections, two in each arm to make him feel more comfortable. Eddie hated needles because they could all easily be infected and could give im so many diseases, especially if it was shared with another person. Even after being profusely told that each needle was new for everyone's different injections, he couldn't help but be paranoid. He didn't want to get AIDS or anything off of some disgusting person. His inhaler's only had two hundred puffs in them so he had a fanny-pack full of them because he didn't want to be caught short and forced to inhale the institution's air.

His mother had first given him an inhaler the first day he started Kindergarten. She had told him to use it every few minutes and tell the teachers that he had asthma and in Eddie's five-year-old head, it made sense. So he did exactly as his mother told him, telling the teacher that he had asthma and taking constant breathes from the inhaler. A little boy had tried to grab the inhaler but ran away when Eddie screeched at him. Eddie didn't like other people touching his things, especially someone he didn't know. He told his mother about his day on the way home. She gave him an extra carrot at dinner as a reward for being a good boy because Eddie wanted his eyesight to be strong.

By first grade, he was taking pills. He didn't know what they were for but his teachers never asked so he was fine. The older he got, the more pills he was taking along with his inhaler. He kept them well organised, setting his watch and phone timers for when he needed to take each pill. He liked being organised. He kept his desk clean, wiping it down with a baby wipe at least four times a day. He kept his pencils sharp and made sure that the sharpenings were properly deposed of. He kept four pencils in his desk, eight in his school bag and two boxes of ten at home. He had coloring pencils, pens, erasers, rulers, notebooks and every other thing you could find in the stationery section of any shop. He liked being prepared too. He had established that other people were disgusting and that only his mom and himself were ever truly clean. Everyone else had sticky hands or dirt in their ears or stained shoes and it made Eddie feel gross. Why couldn't people take care of themselves properly?

In ninth grade, he got an assignment. Research two of the medications you or a family member take. He had checked on of his pill containers to see if it had the name on it but it didn't. He went to the pharmacy to ask the pharmacist for the name but he came out blank, saying that it was just a pill to help him. His daughter had laughed when her father had left, telling Eddie that they were placebos. He had to search what placebos meant but when he found out, he got angry. He stormed home to yell at his mother, telling her that he knew of her lies and that he wasn't really sick. His mother had only smiled sickly at him.

"Oh Eddie-Bear, you are sick. Why else do you think that you can't have an odd amount of fries at dinner, or why you have to shower three times a day? You're sick in the head Eddie" She gloated, proud at being the cause of her son's mental issues. Eddie was appalled. So appalled that he ran upstairs into the bathroom and showered with his clothes on. She was dirty too. So, so dirty. He scrubbed his skin until it bled and scrubbed his clothes until they tore. He needed to be clean.

He had gone to the doctors the next day for his yearly checkup. The only difference was that his mother wasn't with him. He asked the doctor what was wrong with him and told her that he knew that all his medicines were fake. The doctor had sighed and informed him about his obsessive-compulsive disorder or, OCD. The doctor told him all about how he would struggle with it and about how it's not curable, but that Derry Institution could help him and could support him as he learnt to deal with it. Eddie felt unsure at first because that meant being surrounded by disgusting people for the whole day but when he remembered what his mother did and how she had manipulated him for his whole life, he agreed. The doctor knew that Sonia would never sign a permission form so she signed it for him before having someone drive him to the institution.

Eddie had to wipe down the car seat four times before he could even think about getting inside which only confirmed the doctor's instinct to have him sent away for help. She phoned Sonia and informed her about what happened. When Sonia got angry, the doctor threatened her with the manipulation of her child and how she had forced him into taking fake medication for his whole life, which was a crime. Sonia quickly shut up.

Eddie saw the institution and gagged. The bricks were old and mouldy and he could already smell the dust. The driver led him inside the building and Eddie had to go through the doors twice. He took a breath of air and gagged again, quickly shoving his inhaler into his mouth and puffing. He refused to take it out so the driver had to help the receptionist fill in the file for Eddie. Eddie could see the oil of her skin and cringed away from her. She smiled at him and he gagged slightly at her yellow teeth. 

Eddie was lead to a hallway where he saw twenty rooms, ten on either side. He was okay with that but the air was still musky so his inhaler stayed firmly between his lips. The man who led him from the reception unlocked a door and let Eddie step inside. It was white and Eddie relaxed very slightly. He liked white. It helped him see where the dirt was and white just looked clean. The man sat a timetable down on the desk alongside two tubes of hand sanitizer and four packets of baby wipes. Eddie even managed a small smile at the man as he left. The timetable was in perfect order. Eight in the morning was time to wake up, ten was breakfast, twelve was free time, two was lunch, four was more free time, six was dinner, eight was showers and ten was lights out. It was perfect for him.

As he left the nurses station, he saw another boy enter the room next to his. The boy looked frantic and Eddie immediately saw a lot of himself in the tall boy. As Eddie was guided to the food hall for lunch, he wondered if the boy had similar issues as he did. The thoughts of the boy didn't leave Eddie's head until he fell asleep that night.


	4. Odd One Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Stan's stories will be fairly similar but with some smaller changes

Stanley sat quietly in the nurse's station. He chewed on his lower lip as the nurse checked his blood pressure. His foot tapped on the chair leg once, twice, thrice. He kept the same pattern as the nurse continued with her check-up. Stanley had never liked the doctors but he never resented it either. He liked knowing that he was healthy but he didn't like how many questions they asked. 'How have you been feeling this week?' 'Have you thought about taking your own life in the last two weeks?' 'Have you hurt yourself recently?'. It was always the same questions here. They made him feel claustrophobic.

Stanley had never been the most outgoing child. He didn't particularly enjoy company, especially not from his peers. He never knew how to talk to them. They would always speak about their new toys, their favourite television shows, the types of things that young children should be talking about. But not Stanley, he liked talking about different types of birds, about the latest news or the most recent plant that he learned about. The other kids found him weird. They all had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch but Stanley had cucumber sandwiches with weird condiments, like mayo. They liked to play on the slide at recess but Stanley liked building puzzles. He was weird.

Stanley kept himself pristine. His shirt was buttoned to the top and tucked into his pants. His shoes were never dirty or unpolished and he never, ever even thought about sitting on the ground instead of a chair. Before and after lunch, he would wash his hands and he always used three pumps of soap. He held his sandwiches with a napkin to keep his hands clean. Stanley hated mess. Once, someone in his class knocked over a tub of paint and Stanley cried for the rest of the day, even after it had been cleaned up. It wasn't even his tub of paint. 

By middle school, the other kids ignored Stanley. He was the weird kid. People started rumours about him, how he once wet himself in kindergarten because he didn't want to leave his puzzle unfinished, how he still hadn't lost any of his baby teeth because he still acted like a baby or how he spent his lunch breaks in the staff room because he wanted to learn more. None of them were true, but the other kids didn't stop. It got so bad that he spent most of his time at home, crying into his pillow. He never felt happy anymore and not even bird-related puzzles could fix that.

It was his last few months in middle school when he started to self-harm. He hated seeing blood but the small shock of pain made him forget what other people were saying. He started on his wrists but soon found that too difficult to hide so he switched to his thighs and lower stomach. His methods differed, from using a razor blade or a small swiss-knife to digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands to pulling his hair so hard that he thought he might rip his scalp off. He kept his blades clean, his fingernails short and used a soothing conditioner so nobody would be able to tell.

He kept his pattern up until he started grade ten. He was getting changed for gym when one of the boys in his class walked in and saw the scars. Stanley had always changed before the other boys could get to the locker room, just to keep his scars a secret. The boy stared at them for a few seconds before laughing.

"Holy shit, Stanley Urine is a fucking psycho! He fucking cuts himself, this is hilarious! You really are a fucking freak, huh?" The boy practically shouted. Stanley panicked and threw his shirt on before grabbing his things and running from the room. He could hear the other boy heckling from afar but he kept running. He ran all the way home, silently grateful that both of his parents were at work. He sobbed to himself in his room, anger and shame burning inside his stomach. He was so angry at himself for getting caught. He sat in his bedroom, sobbing for a while until his bleary eyes caught the familiar glint of one of his razor blades. He thought for a few seconds before tidying his room up. He re-made his bed, placed his schoolbag neatly in the corner and folded his clothes, sitting them on the drawers before grabbing the blade and walking slowly to the bathroom.

He stripped off his clothes, folding them and sitting them neatly on the closed toilet. He kept his underwear on though, he didn't want his mother to find him without any dignity left. He filled the bathtub up with lukewarm water before slowly sinking himself into it, enjoying the first few seconds were he was surrounded by warmth. He lay with his eyes closed and embracing the warmth for a few moments before picking up the razor blade. He twirled it between his fingers carefully. He inhaled deeply before bringing the blade to his left wrist and dragging it down the inside of his forearm. He gasped at the pain but quickly repeated the action on his right arm before sinking his arms into the water. He closed his eyes and waited, waited for death to take him.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn't sure but his father had arrived home the moment that he closed his eyes. Donald had called upstairs for Stanley but after not getting a reply, went up to see if his son was alright. The school had phoned him and said that Stanley had run away which prompted Donald to leave his job and check on his boy. He heard the soft splashing of water and slowly pried the bathroom door open as Stanley never locked the door, for reasons that he never told. Donald gasped at the sight of his son, slumped down and surrounded by pink water from his own blood. An ambulance was phoned as Donald tried to keep his son alive. 

After an agonising forty-eight-hour wait, Donald and Andrea were told that their son was going to be okay. The doctor gave them a pamphlet about Derry's Institution for the Troubled before leaving to attend to other patients. After reading the pamphlet and a quick Google search, they agreed that Stanley needed serious help and agreed to have him sent to the Institution as soon as he was awake and healthy enough.

Stanley missed his normal life. He missed seeing his parents every morning, missed eating two pancakes with maple syrup before leaving for school, missed seeing his parents when he came home. He didn't hate the Institution but he didn't love it either. 

He sighed as he was guided down the hallway towards a room. It was his first group-therapy session. He wasn't sure if he was ready to meet other people with similar issues like his but he had told one of the therapists that he was open to the idea of it. He just didn't expect it to be so soon. His escort opened the door and let him inside. Stanley murmured a soft 'Thank You' before sitting down in a seat to the left of the room. It was the third seat that he settled for, three being his favourite number. He noticed that there were two other people in the room; a thin boy with uncontrolled brown hair and thick black glasses and another boy who was chubby and looked nervous to be there. Stanley avoided eye-contact with them both until the boy with glasses spoke.

"We don't bite ya'know. You don't have to avoid us like we're Medusa" His voice already annoyed Stanley. He glanced up and the boy wore a stupid grin that got on Stanley's nerves. He wasn't sure how long he would last with this boy.

"Ohhh the silent type, eh? Welp my dear amigo, I'm Richie. But you can call me Trashmouth" He declared loudly, causing the chubby boy to flinch. Stanley rolled his eyes.

"Stanley. Or Stan, whatever you prefer" He stated, his voice quiet but clear. Richie's grin widened.

"Oh, the man speaks! Wait... Stan? Stan the Man! Perfect!" Stanley nearly stood to leave but was stopped when another person entered the room. It was another boy around his age. He was skinny and had an inhaler held in his mouth as if he was afraid to breathe the actual air. He sat next to Richie and Stanley felt the smallest bit of sympathy for him.

"Hey, a new contender has entered the battle! What's your name, wheezy?" Richie asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. Stanley would have found it mildly cute if he wasn't being stared down by the new boy.

"Eddie. I know you" The boy said, taking constant puffs of his inhaler and pointing to Stan. 

"You must be mistaken. I've never seen you befo-"

"Yesterday morning. At the nurse's station" Eddie cut him off, ignoring Richie's attempts to get his attention.

Stanley sighed. This was going to be a long session and it hadn't even begun yet.


	5. Psychotic Kids

When the door was thrown open, Beverly quite literally threw her cigarette away from her.

The nurse who had opened the door gave her a dirty look that reminded her of Tom and made her feel sick. He told her to strip and she nearly stood up to punch him. He rolled his eyes at the way her body tensed and told her that it was his job to strip-search her. She didn't understand why it couldn't be a female nurse, why was it a guy?

She refused but he said that she either obliged and undressed herself or he would be forced to undress her. She reluctantly obliged. She wasn't sure if this was even legal since she was still a minor and he was definitely above the legal age. She caught a glimpse of his nametag which read "P. Hockstetter" and she nearly laughed because what kind of name was that? His hands were ice cold on her bare body, almost like he was a corpse, and he was the opposite of gentle. 

Once he was satisfied, he left with all of her belongings, leaving her with a baggy red hoodie and a pair of jeans that were about four sizes too big for her. She changed into them and was surprised when the hoodie was fluffy on the inside. She still felt his dirty, cold hands all over her body though. She drummed her fingers on the desk anxiously as she noted that he took her cigarettes and lighter away. They were practically her oxygen and she was already suffocating without them. 

Time passed and Beverly wasn't sure how much because there were no windows and no clocks so she just had to fucking guess when another nurse came into her room. She looked much friendlier and Bev was bitter that she wasn't the one to search her. The nurse told Bev to follow her as it was time for her first 'Group Session' and Bev laughed to herself because what the fuck was a group session of therapy going to do but make her share her trauma with other traumatised kids? But she still trailed after the nurse.

The nurse escorted her to a room where five boys sat. Bev kept her head down as she chose the seat in the furthest corner from them all.

"Yo, Molly Ringwald! You don't need to hide from us, we ain't gonna eat you!" One of them called over to her. She glared at the boy and she saw him swallow nervously and push his glasses up his face. 

"You're going to be stuck with us anyway. This is a permanent arrangement" Another boy piped up. He had dark skin and a kind smile that confused Bev because how could anyone smile in a place like this? She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees to her chest on the chair. She heard him sigh quietly.

She heard someone clear their throat for beside her, making her jump. The boy gave her an apologetic look.

"I know you. You used to go to Derry Middle School" He said, smiling. Bev looked away from him.

"I heard all the rumours... but I knew that they weren't true. You were in my Spanish class. Beverly, right?" He asked. She glanced back at him and nodded slightly. He grinned at her.

"Well, I'm Ben. That's Richie, Eddie, Stanley and Mike" He pointed to each of the boys. Richie was the one who spoke to her first, Mike was the second, Eddie was the one who sat next to Richie with an inhaler in his mouth and Stanley was the one who tapped his foot three times in a pattern and had bandages poking out of his sleeves. Bev took a mental note of who everyone was. 

"I know it's going to be hard, being around new people that is, but I promise that we're all nice. Richie can make stupid jokes but he means no harm. At least, I think he means no harm" Ben muttered to himself before shaking his head. 

"Eddie can be quite blunt when he talks, so can Stanley. Mike is really positive about everything" He added.

"What about you?" Bev whispered, almost like she was scared for the others to hear her voice. Ben smiled to himself when she spoke.

"Well, I'd hope that I'm quite positive. I just want to get better and go home to my parents again" Bev looked away again. Ben had both of his parents and they sounded supportive to him. She wondered what that was like.

The door slammed open and revealed a tall, skinny boy with greasy brown hair and wide, alert eyes. He grinned at everyone in the room but it wasn't quite a humane grin. It was more a manic, chaotic grin. He giggled to himself and Beverly recognised it to be the boy she heard laughing when she was first admitted. He started to whisper to himself, acting like he was having a proper conversation with someone before going to sit in the chair next to Mike. He sat down, looked to his right, frowned and sighed. He slouched down in his chair, pouting.

"Hey... pal?" Mike said softly to the new boy. He turned and looked up at Mike, a frown still fixed to his face. Mike offered him a small smile.

"I'm Mike. You doing okay? You came in here all happy but now you look pretty upset" The new boy sighed again.

"My b-brother k-k-keeps disappearing. H-He's next to me o-o-o-one second but then he's g-g-gone" He exclaimed, folding his arms across his chest like a little kid throwing a tantrum. 

"Your brother?" Mike asked, clearly confused. The others were listening to the conversation now too.

"G-Georgie. He was w-with me when I c-c-came into the r-room but then h-he disappeared. He does t-that a l-lot though" Everyone else in the room gave each other a confused look.

"Mate, there was nobody with you when yo-" Stanley slapped his hand over Richie's mouth and glared at him

"Beep Beep, Dickhead" He hissed before removing his hand. Richie just nodded slightly and kept his mouth closed.

"Well, none of us saw where he went. Sorry, uh... buddy?" Mike said hesitintly.

"Oh, my name's William. But call me Bill" Bill said with a very small smile. Mike nodded.

"Okay Bill"

The doors slammed open again, causing all of the kids to flinch. A tall, blonde woman walked in with a clipboard and took a seat. She gestured for the kids to sit in a circle.

"Okay, kids. My name is Robin Clarke, you can call me Robin, Ms Clarke, Ms, whatever you want really. This is your group therapy session. You get four of these a week, Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. You will all stay in this group until you are released and the chances of someone new joining are very limited but there is the chance" The woman introduced herself. Beverly sighed before pulling her knees up to her chest again. She was the only girl in the entire therapy group bullshit, great.

"I'm going to assume that none of you know each other so, why don't we go around the group. Introduce yourself and say something that you like. How about we start with you?" She gestured to her left, where Eddie was sitting. He took a puff from his inhaler.

"My name's Eddie, i'm fifteen and I like clean air" He said quickly before stuffing his inhaler back into his mouth. Richie and Beverly snickered quietly causing Robin to look at them.

"I'll ask you all to be respectful of each other" Her tone was kind but also harsh. Richie smirked to himself.

"My name is Stanley. Or Stan. I'm sixteen and I like bird watching" Richie had to bite his lip to stay quiet.

"My name's Mike, i'm sixteen and I really enjoy boxing" 

"Welp, my name is Richie, you can call me Trashmouth. I am the magical age of sixteen and I like porn" Beverly burst out laughing before covering her mouth with her hands. Richie could still hear her stifled laughter which only made him grin.

"Richie... anything that you like which is appropriate?" Robin glared at him through her thin glasses.

"Umm. Hmm. Welp, I do enjoy a good impression" He answered, putting on his best worse English accent. He heard a few other people snicker.

"That's acceptable" Robin murmured whilst scribbling on her clipboard.

"I'm Bev, i'm fifteen and I like smoking, so fuck your clean air" She glared at Eddie who took a panicked puff from his inhaler. Richie snorted at his expression, holding his hand out for a high-five from Bev. She obliged, smirking at Robin, who shot back an unimpressed look.

"Please refrain from using profanities. Anything acceptable, Beverly?" Bev felt slightly uneasy at the use of her full name.

"I dunno... I like drugs but i'm pretty sure that's not an acceptable answer in your books" She gave Robin a challenging look.

"No. It's not. Let's move on, shall we?" Robin responded before looking past Bev.

"Umm... I'm Ben, i'm fifteen and I like reading" Ben sounded awkward like he wasn't used to the attention of a full room. 

"I'm B-Bill, I'm fifteen a-and I like s-spending time w-w-with my little b-brother" Bill smiled to himself. Robin gave him an uneasy look before scribbling on her clipboard again.

"Ah, yes. The imaginary little brother" Richie whispered to Bev, who clasped a hand over her mouth again to stop from laughing. Richie decided that she was his favourite person in the whole group.

Robin glanced at the two before continuing to write on her clipboard. 

"Okay. I want you all to get to know each other better. So, in the same order, what's your favourite colour, instrument and hobby?" Robin asked, looking around the group.

"Umm, red, flute and... I don't have any hobbies" Eddie murmured. Robin write down his answers

"I like green, piano and bird watching, as I said earlier" Stan sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. Robin didn't seem to notice.

"Blue, cello and helping out on my grandad's farm" Mike had a soft smile at the mention of the farm. He seemed like a farm boy anyway.

"Oh boy, I'd have to say that my favourite colour is neon blue. My favourite instrument, gosh, that's a tricky one. I do love the bass, such an edgy but sophisticated sound. Hobbies? Buying Hawaiian shirts and playing the most beautiful bass you've ever seen. Also, screwing Eddie's mom" Richie rambled obnoxiously. Eddie gasped at the mention of his mother.

"Don't talk shit about my mom, dickfuck!" He growled. Richie howled with laughter

"Guys!" Robin said loudly. They both quietened, Eddie still glaring at a snickering Richie.

"Black, guitar, and nothing that's on your acceptable list" Bev stated shortly, clearly uninterested in Robin's attempts to bond the group. Robin seemed unimpressed at her answer but stayed silent anyway.

"Umm, orange, the guitar and reading about history" Ben smiled at Bev before Richie snickered.

"You're not subtle bro" He quipped, only to be silenced by Robin's glare. God, you could tell who she disliked, couldn't you?

"I like y-yellow, p-piano and p-playing with my b-brother" Bill smiled to himself again, getting lost in more memories. Whether they were real or not was a different question.

"Okay guys, today has been... a start. It's dinner time now, so I'll escort you all to the dining hall. After that, I won't see you's all again until our Friday session" Robin finished her scribbling before standing up and putting her chair away. The kids followed and put their chairs away. Eddie, Stanley, Ben and Mike all put theirs together, to the side of the room whereas Bill, Richie and Bev just kicked theirs to the side.

Robin rolled her eyes at them before leading them from the room.


	6. The Youth Is Wasted On The Young

Bev stuck with Richie as Robin led the group to the dining hall. She found that she could trust him as they had a similar sense of humour, similar attitudes and a similar dislike for the rest of the group. They both agreed that Bill was absolutely insane, that Eddie had a stick up his ass, that Ben was incredibly oblivious to how unsubtle he was, that Mike was weird because of how happy he was and that Stanley was so blunt that it was actually intimidating. They also disliked Robin but that was valid because she seemed to dislike them too.

"How long have you been here?" She asked as they waited in the line. Richie was in front of her so he twisted his head over his shoulder to see her.

"Since this morning. Mom and Dad dropped me off. It was weird, they actually looked sad that I was leaving" He mused. Bev gave him a small smile before averting her gaze to the floor. Richie seemed to notice that.

"I have a feeling that your parents aren't the best?" His voice was quieter so that nobody else could hear. Bev nodded.

"My mom died when I was young so it was just me and my dad. He wasn't great" She murmured. She might trust Richie but she had only met him a few hours ago. Richie gave a sympathetic nod.

"How about you? How long have you been here?" He asked, stepping ahead in the line.

"This afternoon. The police dropped me off-"

"Wait, the police? You've been arrested?" He asked, much louder than necessary. Bev flinched at his tone before laughing softly.

"Richie, I've been arrested more times than I can count" He had turned his body to her fully now, his jaw hanging slightly.

"Holy shit, that's fucking awesome. So you've been to jail? What was it like? How long were you there? Did you drop the soa-"

"Beep Beep, Rich" She stopped him. He pouted slightly but stayed quiet. She'd have to thank Stanley for that little trick later. Or not.

"I'm too young to go to jail. I've been to detention centres and I've been forced to stay at the station for the night. The centres were for, like, a month and that was only because I got caught selling drugs and stealing. And, no. I didn't drop the soap. You know that's only for guys, right?" Richie sighed because, no, he didn't know it was only for guys.

Bev snickered at him before nudging his shoulder lightly. He stepped forward in the line before getting handed a tray of what was most definitely prison food. He gave Bev an unimpressed look which she returned as she got given her own tray. They wandered towards a table, sitting down across from one another. Bev reached in her pocket before remembering that that Hockstetter guy had taken all of her crap. She sighed, fingers drumming anxiously on the table.

"You good?" Richie asked, noticing her drumming.

"They took my cigarettes and all that crap. I'm not used to not having them" She answered, chewing her lip. Richie gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Well, you're gonna be in for a hell of a ride here. According to Eddie, they don't let anything from the outside world be brought in without their upmost searching. Any drugs or shit that is let in is in the nurse's stations and is under hefty security" He stated.

"This is their plan to kill me" Bev muttered, causing Richie to chuckle.

The duo heard a loud laugh and looked over to see Bill, laughing at nothing before continuing to talk to nothing.

"Ah yes, the infamous brother returns. Or doesn't" Richie quipped as they both snickered.

"I wonder what happened to the brother. If there ever actually was a brother" Bev replied, giving Bill a curious look. 

"Probably something tragic. Maybe he ran away. Maybe he fell down the drain. Maybe a spooky clown ate him!" Richie declared dramatically, causing Bev to laugh. A few people from neighbouring tables gave them dirty looks but they couldn't care less.

Bev glanced around at some of the people in the dining hall. She could see Stanley, Eddie, Mike and Ben all sitting together but nobody seemed to be talking. She could see, and hear, Bill from across the hall. She ended up catching eyes with someone, a girl. She had bright blue eyes and short, dyed-red hair. She wore overalls with one of the suspenders undone, a tie-dye t-shirt and ripped black jeans. Her eyes looked heavy as if she hadn't slept in a while. The girl winked at Bev, flashed her a grin and then walked away. Bev was left in awe at her.

Richie's snickering caught her attention again. He wore a proud grin as he looked at her. Her cheeks flushed red as she averted her gaze from him.

"I thought Ben wasn't subtle but holy hell" He piped up, grinning wider.

"Beep Beep, bitch" She muttered, staring intently at her food. If she wished hard enough then maybe it would look edible. Richie's laughter died down, but he still had the stupid grin plastered to his face.

"I'm cool with it, ya'know" He said softly. Bev's eyes darted up to meet his and she was met with all honesty.

"It's not just girls... she was just really pretty" She sighed. Richie nodded.

"She was. But so is Stanley" He whispered before winking. Bev smiled at him before gently holding his hand.

"You're such a loser" She mumbled. He chuckled quietly.

"So are you" He mumbled back before looking down at his food, sadly.

"We feast. Or we starve. What's the verdict, my friend?" He put on a better British accent, poking the unnamed meat with his fork.

"Starving sounds better than ingesting this, to be honest. But, I guess we'll have to make do" She sighed before taking a hazardous bite. Richie's eyes went wide.

"It's poisoned, isn't it? Don't die on me Bev, I need at least one person who has any brain cells to be with me during the group sessions" He stated dramatically. Bev rolled her eyes at him before swallowing.

"It actually doesn't taste that bad" Richie gasped.

"That's how they get ya! They make it taste okay and then it kills you!" He howled. Bev laughed at him

"Beep Beep, before they yell at us. And, you're probably right. Maybe I will die later on" She replied. He sighed deeply before taking a dramatic bite. He pretended to gag as he chewed before swallowing.

"It's not bad... I'm scared, what if they give us nice food here to make up for all the other bullshit?" He asked and Bev couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious so she shrugged. 

"I guess we'll find out" 

Once they were finished, they were allowed to walk free for a while since they still had an hour until the timetable said they had to shower. It was a weird rule, making every person at the institution shower nightly. It makes you wonder how much the government is paying the institution.

They wandered around the institution, pretty lost as there were no maps because they could be used to hurt people. As if someone was going to kill themselves with a piece of paper. Eventually, the duo found a small room that looked like a music teachers dream. There were guitars and microphone stands and drums and pianos and violins and every other musical instrument to exist. There were two small couches huddled around a coffee table and there was even a mini-fridge, although it was empty, much to Richie's disappointment. Bev grinned in awe at the room because this was her literal paradise. She may have had a shitty life but music was one of the few things that kept her going. 

Richie picked up one of the bass guitars, strumming a few cords before cringing at how out of tune it was. He fiddled with the tuning pegs until it was properly tuned and Bev was impressed that he knew how to tune it off by heart. He smiled to himself as he played a few chords before looking up to her.

"You said you liked guitar, right?" He asked to which, she nodded. He glanced around the room, his eyes wide and alert.

"Electric or acoustic?" He hummed as he swung the bass over his shoulder. Thank god for the strap.

"Either. I'd say I'm better at electric though" She replied as he wandered around the room. He stopped and grabbed a guitar before waddling over to her and presenting it.

"For you, M'lady" He grinned cheesily. Bev rolled her eyes.

"Loser. Thanks" She took the guitar and found that it was in tune. She played a few chords.

"We should totally preform. You sing?" He asked hopefully. Bev nodded, hesitantly as Richie grinned.

"You know Psychotic Kids?" Bev nodded again as Richie started to play. She joined in with the guitar.

"_I see pictures in my head_  
_A world where the suffering's dead_  
_And they can't fight or unjustly arrest_  
_Anybody, for the colour of their body _"

Her voice echoed around the room, as did the instruments. She glanced at Richie, who wore an encouraging smile.

"_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want_  
_Psychotic kids, we have to keep control of them_

_Drop a hairdryer into my bath_  
_Shocks like that make me laugh_  
_It's fun to laugh when you're sad_  
_Be happy, come on let me be happy_ "

Bev closed her eyes, letting herself get lost. In the lyrics, in the instruments, in all of it.

"_Why do you wanna go turn back time?_  
_Come and take a ride in my psychotic mind_  
_Why do you wanna go turn back time?_  
_Turn back time?_

_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want_  
_Psychotic kids, we have to keep control of them_  
_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want_  
_Psychotic kids, we have to keep control of them _"

The song seemed fitting. They were psychotic kids, the institution was trying to keep control of them and she sure as hell didn't know what she wanted. She could almost sense that Richie felt the song too. Maybe that was why he picked it.

"_My mum thinks I'm on heroin_  
_And my dad just thinks I'm gone_  
_But they don't know fucking anything_  
_Say "Youth is wasted on the young"_

_My mum thinks I'm on heroin_  
_And my dad just thinks I'm gone_  
_But they don't know fucking anything_  
_Say "Youth is wasted on the young"_

_Wasted on the young_  
_Wasted on the young_  
_Wasted on the young_  
_Wasted on the young _"

Bev's mom didn't think anything. Not since she fucking slit her wrists in the bathtub. Her dad didn't give a fuck about her, so yeah. They didn't know fucking anything. And, yeah, maybe the youth is wasted on the young but that's not their fault. Nobody had a perfect life with perfect parents and perfect friends. Everyone was fucked up.

"_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want _  
_Psychotic kids, we have to keep control of them _  
_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want _  
_Psychotic kids, we have to keep control of them _  
_We've got to keep control of them_

_Psychotic kids, they don't know what they want_ "

Bev sighed as the last note was sung and the last chord was played. She jumped out of her skin when she heard someone applauding. Both her and Richie spun around to see Robin standing at the doorway, clapping. She had tears in her eyes and a small, almost proud, smile on her face.

"That was... amazing" Her voice was rough, causing her to quickly clear her throat. Bev gave Richie a sheepish smile, which he returned. Robin gave them both a genuine smile.

"We have a music program here. They call it an institution but we're really more of a school. Since many of our young patients either dropped out of school due to their issues or have been taken out of their education to attend here, we offer classes to those interested. I know that we didn't really get off on the right foot but I believe in you two. I really recommend the program" Richie glanced at Bev, who glanced back.

"Umm, maybe? Can you give us more details or like, a pamphlet?" Richie asked, taking the bass guitar off and sitting it back in the stand. Bev did the same with her guitar. 

"It's mostly built as a stepping stone for going to study music in university but you would be able to build a career off of it alone. It's equivalent to what you would learn in a normal high school but without the exam type things. You'd get to perform in front of other people in the institution if you please and you can basically do what you like with it. You can write your own songs, create parodies, perform as groups, whatever you want really. You're able to use this room whenever you want to and the lessons are supervised. Lessons are on Tuesday and Thursday from four until six but, again, the use of this room is whenever you want and will be unsupervised most of the time" Robin explained with a hopeful look.

"Well... what do you think?" Richie turned to Bev. She nodded slightly, indicating that she thought it would be a good idea. Richie smiled.

"We're in"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "Psychotic Kids - Unplugged" By YungBlud
> 
> (Most of my chapters are named after YungBlud songs or lyrics)
> 
> Any comments are appreciated :)


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